Favorite Chair
by nevereatdirt
Summary: Your name is Karkat Vantas and Dave Strider is in your favorite chair. That has to change.


You're sitting in your new human-style apartment. It's been nearly a sweep now and all that you can hear right now is that _fucking RAPPING_. You stomp through the halls and find where it's coming from. Of course it's your fucking roommate. _Strider_!

He's sitting in the living room in the comfy chair. _Your_ comfy chair, that grub fucking shit! You walk up behind him and realize that he's just sitting there in a pair of pajama pants. Lazy bastard needs to go out and get a _job_ and stop mooching off of you. But then you realize that his bro is paying for this apartment. And your food. And pretty much everything else.

But you don't care about that. He's bothering you and he's in your chair.

You flick him in the back of his head and he turns around with what better be an incredulous look. You wouldn't want it any other way. "Yo, Karkat, what do you think you are _doing_? Don't you know it costs fifty boon bucks to flick me in the head?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh, so now you're some kind of pay to pain human?"

"Yeah, man, I'm totally a prostitute. Oh baby oh baby, gimme money and you'll get all of this Strider hot all up on you."

"Yeah. No. There is no way that you're going to make out with me for that to work."

He quirks an eyebrow and you realize what you said.

"I fucking meant make that out to me to work!"

"Nah, man, you know what you said. You wanna get some of this." He purses his lips and points at them. As ridiculous as it might seem, you _really_ want to take him up on that offer. But your dignity rests in not.

"Wow, Strider. In all this time you have still yet to prove that you're not an insufferable douche bag."

He raises his eyebrows. "And here I thought you went for that, Mr. Krabs."

He's called you that before. You still don't get the reference. Something about some Earth cartoon about a sentient sea sponge working at an underwater human burger place who had a nut creature for a friend? You don't really care though. "I fucking hate that nickname, Strider."

"And I fucking hate being called Strider. So say my name, bro."

"No."

"Say it."

You sigh. He's doing that stupid thing from that _horrible_ movie that he'd made you watch ironically. Fortunately he wasn't pretending to be a rainbow drinker. "Fuck you, Strider."

"Oh, that's not very nice, Vantas."

You're taken aback by this. He never calls you Vantas. That's not his schtick.

"What the fuck are you trying to do?"

"Who me?"

"Yes, _you_. What the fuck are you doing?"

"I _was _rappin' but if you wanna do something else, man..."

You roll your eyes but he just keeps talking. If there was one thing that you'd learned about Dave Strider since being stuck on that fucking meteor it was that he wouldn't shut up. So you decide to take a risk and do something that Sollux used to joke about doing to you. He'd actually done it once, too.

But you both decided to never bring that up again.

Ever.

You shake your head while Strider keeps up his incessant mumbling and grab his face, pulling it to yours. You catch his lips and he lets out a started squeak.

You weren't fucking expecting that.

And what you really weren't expecting was for him to kiss back.

His hands are in your hair, gripping just behind your nubby horns while his fucking _lips_ move against yours like you're the last thing he wants to taste in his miserable human existence. You feel something wet press against your lower lip and you realize he's pressing his tongue against it. And _oh my fucking piss christ is that ever hot_.

You haven't been kissed like this. Not in a long time. Without realizing it you've somehow been pulled down onto his lap while your mouths slide against each other and your tongues move forward and back, receding as sporadically as the Alternian tides. You move a little and you feel something... hard? That's unexpected. Fucking aliens anyway. But it feels good against your nook and you rut against him a little. He lets out a little moan when you do and you do it again. But the more you do it he starts... _fucking laughing_!

He pulls away and you glare at him. "Fuck you for laughing."

"No, man. I just. Yeah I did not expect this is all." For once you're both at a loss for words. He scratches behind his head. "You wanna keep going?"

"Do hoofbeasts crush unsuspecting trolls that get caught under them?"

"I'm going to hope that that's a yes."

"It's a fucking yes, you nook thumbing piece of shit."

He smirks as he grips the top of your jeans. "You want me to thumb your nook? I bet I could make you purr."

And there's Strider. Trying to keep his cool. But you can see the bright red blush across his cheeks. Fuck that's pitiful. "Fuck you, Strider."

He hums. "That's what I like to hear." He presses his lips to yours again as he tries to work your pants off. You stand up and pull them down and Dave does the same. He pats his lap with a smirk on his face and you're so very fucking tempted to just _leave_.

But you're too worked up to do that now.

_Take it like a troll, Vantas._

You sit back on his lap and he runs his hands up your sides, pulling off your sweater as he does. You shiver a little at the cold air in the apartment but he pulls you close. Even with as feverishly warm as you are as a troll, his human heat is still so much more. _How the fuck can he be this hot when he's practically naked?_

Your face flushes a bright red when you realize just what you were thinking, but to hide it you press back into his lips, letting his tongue tangle with yours. His excess heat is spurring you on but you can't help but notice that irritating buzzing.

As you kiss him you realize that it's you. You're fucking purring. You haven't purred like this since you were a wriggler back on Alternia.

You forget about the purring and rut back into that hardness you'd felt earlier. He pulls back, hissing some, and holds your hips in place while you keep going. You lift up some and his hands catch on your boxers. He pulls them down and you do your best to shimmy out of them while he takes his off as well.

You look down to see what the hard lump was against you. A flesh rod? It doesn't look flexible. And it's so much thicker than a bulge is at the tip. You take a deep breath as your bulge wraps around it. It doesn't move with you but the _heat_ is just so much more than you thought it would be. He lets out a little noise and now it's his turn to rut into you. You groan and lean forward, resting your head against his shoulder. "Fuck, Strider, just put it in already!"

"Wha?" He looks at you. His shades are crooked and his poker face is completely gone. You've never seen him this exposed. You want more of it.

"Just! FUCK ME ALREADY!" You sound like an animal in heat. You're desperate at this point.

He laughs a little. "Well you're gonna have to get that tentadick off me so I can move."

You huff and move your bulge. Both of you let out little whines at the lose of contact but you slowly position yourself over him. Human pailing is so strange. How come his bulge can't just find you? Wouldn't that be easier?

But you lower yourself onto him and let out a little gasp as the tip enters you. It's so much wider than it looked and it's that way _all the way down_. You let out at low moan as you continue moving down and he keeps stretching you as you do. You're panting once you feel his hips against you. Your bulge curls and writhes, looking for somewhere to bury itself with this much pressure in side of you.

And then he moves.

He pulls back as much as he can and thrusts shallowly into you. He's hitting so _much_ and so little at the same time, you can't believe how good it feels. He holds you tight and rolls, swapping your positions.

You wrap your legs around his waist and he just keeps thrusting. Pulling so far out you're afraid that he's just going to leave you there in a writhing pile of need, but then pushing back in with a grunt and a little groan or pleasure. But he's turning you into a screaming bundle or _need, need, need_.

The only words you know you've said though are nonsense. Like your thinkpan can't process anything with this much stimulation pounding at your nook.

You can feel your material getting ready to release and you need a pail. You need a fucking pail! You try to tell Strider, but he's sped up and more frantic. He must be close, too.

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss. You've always liked to finish while kissing your partner. You just felt like it brought you so much closer to them and it just felt so much _better_ when you released.

Before you know it there's a torrent of fluid pouring from you as you let out a loud scream, not wanting it to end.

He stays inside you as you ride out the orgasm and he isn't far behind. You hear him call your name and you hold him closer.

The two of you are left panting as he grows flaccid and your bulge resheaths.

But you hear him laughing again.

"What the fuck at you laughing at now?"

He presses a kiss to your neck. "You screamed my name."

"Did not." Your face flushes again, but you know that you did.

He holds you close, one hand on your face and rubbing circles at your cheek. "Did too."

You frown a little and avoid his gaze. That's when you notice the mess.

"Strider this is my favorite fucking chair! You are cleaning this UP!"

He just laughs and presses another kiss to your lips.

You _suppose_ you could get used to this.


End file.
